"Good," I say, maybe a little too emphatically. Because I don't know where my apartment is in Darrow yet -- which I really need to remedy by looking at maps more often -- and I don't know where I left the Pig anymore. And I definitely know that, in any event, we're extremely far away from where Ronan and I are camped out.

It's dark in the service elevator, so I grab for her shoulder. My face feels hot a second later, but it helps me keep track of her, and I'm not willing to dig my phone out of my pants pocket in case, God forbid, I drop the thing, or worse.

The buttons for the elevator glow dully -- there are only four of them. I hit the one that will take us upstairs to storage.